World War Z-Tip of the Spear: Ashes to Ashes
by Robert H. Gordon Jr
Summary: Nathan George and the rest of 1-34's trials continue as the world spirals out of control.
1. Chapter 1

World War Z: Tip of the Spear

Ashes to Ashes

By: Robert H. Gordon Jr.

**The Slums of Marrakesh, Morocco 0830z**

An air raid siren wailed loud and continuous. Smoke soiled the morning air; a dense dirty fog which choked and stung the eyes. The sun-bleached buildings were marred by the signs of war. Everywhere was chaos; screaming, running, gunfire, explosions coming from all directions. Order was a forgotten concept, reason an abandoned idea. It was everyone for themselves in a free-for-all of survival and absolute terror. The virus had come for another metropolis. Marrakesh was becoming a city of the living dead.

"Contacts coming in!"

"I'm on it!"

"I've got 'em at twelve and ten!"

"Three and five!"

M4 assault rifles barked fire and metal at shambling figures in the smoke. A low keening sound appeared amidst the din; the ever-present moan of the damned. The rifles kicked and the figures fell but there were more. There were always more.

"Nate, get that piece of shit up and running!"

"Almost done!" replied Nathan George former Army Specialist now a veteran member of Special Ops Alpha Unit 1-34. Sweat dripping from his youthful chiseled features; he lugged a decrepit gas-powered generator over to a pick-up truck. Plugging in an extension cord, he split it, stripping away the insulation, exposing the wires. He wrapped the ends around the terminals for the truck's battery.

His team had been tasked with destroying the last bridge connecting the slums to Marrakesh's main metropolitan area; effectively cutting off the bulk of the city's population along with the rising number of infected. During the mission they had received a frantic call for help from a British Alpha Team. With their mission all but complete, Nathan, his Team Leader Hicks, and their Medic Melina Cruz had moved to intercept but had gotten cut off both from the British team and from the bridge.

"Cruz they're bunching up at your two o'clock!" Hicks yelled; his all-American face streaked with sweat and grime.

"I got 'em!" Cruz braced the barrel of her rifle against a nearby wall and quick-fired four rounds that dropped all of the encroaching infected. Switching magazines, she took note of her reserves. "We can't do this all day, Sarge!" Tucking a wayward lock of black hair behind an ear she sighted down her rifle, seeking more targets.

Hicks put a hand to his throat activating the microphone there. "Kelly, Hicks what's our exit looking like?"

Two miles away the fourth and final member of the team lay prone on the roof of an abandoned store, every exposed part of the ginger's pale skin turning red under the harsh African sun. He was monitoring the bridge through the scope of his M24 sniper rifle. There was no living traffic, only a score of infected lurching their way toward him. He dropped three of them who had crossed the middle of the span adding to the pile of bodies strewn about. Hearing his commanding officer's request he keyed up his mike. "Sarge it's starting to get pretty thick. You need to get those guys and get back here pronto."

Back in the fight Hicks took down three targets that had gotten too close. "You hear that Nate?" he yelled over his shoulder. Not getting a response he turned around. "Nate? NATHAN, LOOK OUT!"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end registering the invasion of his personal space. Nathan turned, his peripheral vision unconsciously confirming his fears. His body burning with the impulses streaking to his limbs, he struck the outstretched arms of the infected man above the elbow, driving the attack sideways. His left hand drew a knife from its sheath at his back and plunged it into his attacker's temple. He pressed it home giving the blade a violent twist.

The infected man, a fat bearded Arab, shuddered and collapsed. Nathan had already forgotten about him. He could see the open door leading further into the home in whose garage they had taken shelter. There were two more infected coming. One was a woman, burkha torn, revealing a mangled body. The other was a child sporting a ruined nub where her tiny hand should have been. Nathan dropped his knife with the body and drew his M9 Beretta. Two quick shots brought peace to a mother and her child.

Nathan holstered the pistol and retrieved his knife, wiping the black goo and brains on the leg of his digi-cam jumpsuit, before going back to the truck. The connections established, he yanked at the pull-cord for the generator. It started after three tries. Sparks flew at the terminal as the electricity traveled its unconventional path into the battery. Nathan jumped in the driver's seat and tried the engine. It sputtered, playing at starting. He waited a few more seconds.

"C'mon Nate," urged Hicks.

"Almost!" he replied.

"I've got contact!" Cruz yelled, raising her rifle.

"Don't shoot!" The figure raised his arms taking two quick steps forward. "Corporal Wesley Shipp, Her Majesty's Special Forces." Lanky and black-haired, he was dressed in blood-soaked woodland fatigues and wearing a green beret. His face was smeared with camouflaging greasepaint suitable for a lush jungle environment, not the arid tan and beige of the North African Coast.

"Are you wounded?" asked Cruz, her weapon still trained.

"It's not my blood," Shipp said.

"Where's your weapon, Corporal?" Hicks asked.

Shipp jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Back there with those bastards," he paused, "and what's left of my mates."

"You're the only one?" Cruz asked. Shipp nodded. Cruz finally lowered her weapon. "Sorry."

Hicks tossed the Brit his sidearm. "For the time being, welcome to the 1-34. We hope to have a ride out of here sometime before the Second Coming."

In the cab of the truck, Nathan tried again to start the engine. It coughed and whined, sparks flying from underneath the hood making Nathan fear an electrical short. Then the truck roared to life and he said a silent prayer of thanks. Leaning out of the cab he yelled, "Who's ready to go?"

Hicks keyed up his throat mike. "Kelly, Hicks we are moving to you. Command this is Alpha 1-34 reporting imminent mission completion. We are returning heavy one trooper, over."

_"Alpha 1-34, Command, has the target been destroyed?"_

Hicks climbed into the cab as Nathan held up two fingers, "Command, Alpha 1-34, two minutes."

_"Copy, two minutes. Proceed to LZ for extraction."_

Cruz and Shipp hopped into the bed of the truck as Nathan backed it out of the garage. They hung on as he dropped it in gear and tore down the narrow street. Behind them a curtain of smoke fell over the growing number of shambling souls wailing for their blood. Ahead, another curtain rolled back on more of the damned and the soon-to-be trying to escape.

Nathan swerved around wrecked vehicles and scurrying people; the chaos of it all seeming to collapse around them in a cacophony of misery and fear. Behind him he heard Cruz and Shipp firing their weapons at infected, trying to give the fleeing people a chance at survival if but for a few more moments. Beside him, Hicks reloaded his rifle. Another hard turn and they could see the bridge.

"Kelly, Hicks, we're on final." Hicks picked up his rifle and leaned out of the window. He took aim, picking off the infected ahead of them on the bridge.

Climbing down from his position, Kelly put a hand to his throat. "I've got visual. Christ, where did Nathan get that piece of junk?"

Nathan crossed the bridge bringing the truck to a stop next to a ladder on the side of the store. Kelly appeared a few seconds later, sliding to the ground and leaping into the bed with Cruz and Shipp. Reaching into his pocket Nathan pulled out a detonator and tossed it to Hicks, "Your turn, Sarge."

"God, I'm gonna need a tetanus booster just sitting in this thing." Kelly complained.

Nathan climbed out of his window, sitting on the sill. "Don't knock her, she's a classic."

"Stow it, both of you," Hicks warned, pressing the lever on the detonator. Three blocks away, the bridge shattered in a cloud of pulverized stone and infected bodies. Hicks tossed the detonator back to Nathan. "Let's go."

They drove several more blocks before coming to a crowded square held by the local military. There they left the truck and climbed into a waiting Blackhawk that lifted off as soon as they were aboard.

Shipp returned Hicks' pistol. "Thanks again, mate," he said.

Hicks holstered the piece and shook Shipp's hand. "Don't mention it."

Two jets streaking past caught their attention. The fast-movers passed over the slums breaking formation. An instant later, the poverty and disease-stricken neighborhoods vanished in two massive balls of flame. The Blackhawk bucked against the shockwave. In the hold, the soldiers watched the familiar sight with tired resignation. With the virus winning the slums, the Moroccan military had opted for a clean sweep; a thermo-baric bomb designed to set fire to the air and flatten everything within its reach. In the waning light of day, the ordinance reduced the slums to rubble and incinerated everything in them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Z**

The Blackhawk touched down at a makeshift airbase on the coast, twenty miles from the embattled city. There, Special Ops units from several countries used the fortication to mount operations in the vicinity. 1-34 disembarked, hustling away from the bird while the crew went about refueling for another mission. Once clear, they slowed down and caught their collective breaths. This was their third week in-country, their sixth mission in the last ten days. Despite their training, fatigue was setting in.

"There's a contingent of your countrymen occupying an area down by the water," Hicks said. "They should be able to link you up with your command."

Shipp stared into the distance, his face a roiling sea of emotion. He took a deep breath and straightened his posture. Turning to the others he shook their hands in turn, pausing to give Cruz a kiss on hers. "Thanks for saving my ass back there. Pop over to our side of the base and I'll see about getting you a pint or two."

"You gonna be all right, brother?" Kelly asked.

Shipp gave him a brave smile. "You know us Brits, stiff upper lip and all that. Stay safe. Cheers."

_…We watched him leave. I've forgotten a lot about him but what I remember most was his expression. It had that mix of joy and pain; joy for being alive while suffering all the more because he was the only one. What it must have been like for him to be the last man standing._

_We were starting to hear more and more stories like that; units go in and only one soldier comes out. You wonder what's worse, one or none. Later we would hear that he put a bullet in his mouth, the note he left behind; a confession. He had abandoned his team when they got cut off. Part of you wants to condemn him but your humanity doesn't allow it. It can't, not after what we've seen._

_We walked off the tarmac heading for our part of the base. We weren't halfway there when we were intercepted by a messenger. We were to report to staging to rearm and prep for deployment to Casablanca. If you remember, we were there two weeks prior on a "simple" support op and barely made it out alive. Now we had to go back to extract some fool CIA operative who had missed his EVAC and deliver him and his package to the US Embassy in Rabat. No rest for the weary…_

Z

A green light activated inside the hold of the Chinook helicopter, the rear door opening to reveal the remains of Casablanca. Gray smoke trailed from everywhere. Below, the streets were largely deserted. Only the infected walked the charred avenues littered with apocalyptic debris. Looking over the ruined landscape one could see the future of cities all over the world.

A clean sweep having already come through, the bird settled over a ruined crater which used to be a vibrant neighborhood. Ropes descended from the rear deck followed by Nathan and the others. On reaching the ground, they abandoned the insertion site, the bird banking away. Traversing the rubble of ruined buildings, they climbed to the second floor of an apartment complex whose front had been blasted away. Hiding behind bits of rubble, they waited.

The wait was short, scores of infected leeching from the edges of the debris field and toppled masses of stone and brick; moving toward the epicenter seeking the source of the noise that had brought them. They searched with mindless purpose, looking both toward their surroundings and the skies, their moans filling the air; rising in a crescendo that was almost deafening.

In their hiding places, the four soldiers coped with the nightmare playing out below them. Each had earplugs that did little to mute the noise. Kelly gripped his rifle, rocking back and forth. Cruz, weapon propped across her knees, added her hands to the effort. Hicks sat stock-still, eyes closed, humming quietly to himself. Nathan turned his thoughts inward, mentally taking himself somewhere else. The last year had numbed them to many things. The droning wail of the infected was not one of them.

After a half-hour, the mass of inhumanity moved on. Kelly emerged first; using his sniper's rifle to scan the area. Suppressor attached, he dispatched several remaining infected, effectively clearing the visible danger. That done, he dropped back behind cover. "We look good," he said. "What's the plan, Sarge?"

Hicks opened a map of the surrounding area. "All right, the last known location for our spy is at this apartment building. He tapped into a satellite dish on the roof and used it to signal his position."

"So why weren't they able to pick him up with a helo?" Cruz asked.

"Too small a footprint with too many obstacles around," Hicks said. "The last time an EVAC like that was tried, it rained infected and they lost the chopper, the crew, and the asset." He handed the map to Kelly.

Kelly studied their destination mentally tracing a line to their current position. Then he searched the nearby area for a suitable extraction point. He pointed, "We can go this way, meet him at the building then move to this area here."

"The school?" asked Hicks.

"The yard specifically," Kelly confirmed.

Hicks nodded. "If that doesn't work, we'll secondary at this soccer field. Okay, let's get to that building. From there Kelly and Nate will recon the extraction point and secure it for EVAC. I wanna be wheels up two minutes after we arrive."

"Yeah not like last time," Cruz chimed in.

_…We moved out, dropping down from our position of relative safety and stepping on the scorched earth below. Even after we passed from the scar left by the clean sweep, the landscape was still depressing; more so since the buildings were largely intact. There should've been people on the streets going about their daily, worrying over their kids or their bills, the normal rhythm of life. If there was anything out of place, it should have been us._

_Passing through courtyards where children once played, we stepped over the leavings of our enemy. I think it was the first time I had ever felt real fear on a mission. In the moment, there's no time and after it seems like an ancient memory. Moving through a bloodstain so large I could not fathom how many bodies had created it, the knowledge that we were behind enemy lines sank in. I reached out with my ears listening to the relative silence. Ours felt like the only beating hearts in the city._

_When we got to our asset's last-known, we found a dozen or so infected loitering around the front door. It was an ancient four-story apartment building surrounded by taller, more modern residences. The infected weren't showing any real interest but it was clear that something had drawn them there. A white sheet was draped over the side of the roof, "SOS" scrawled on it with, what I hoped was, paint…_

The quiet shuffling of feet was drowned out in a deluge of suppressed gunfire, the heavy thunk of metal blasting skulls and the meaty thwack of brain matter staining the ground, violating the calm. Dead bodies; erect and walking in defiance of nature, dropped where they stood before they could utter a sound. As suddenly as it came, the fury of battle swept through and was gone.

Nathan stepped from his position, moving into the killing field; stepping among the bodies of the damned searching for signs of their mockery of life. Finding none he waved a hand over his head indicating that the area was clear. The others were with him a moment later.

"All right, you two, get going," Hicks ordered. After watching Nathan and Kelly move off, he turned to the building; Cruz inspecting the front door. He went to one of the shuttered windows finding it nailed shut. Looking further upward he found a second-floor window whose shutters were open. "Cruz."

"Aw come on, Sarge, not again," she whined.

"You're the gymnast," Hicks shrugged.

Going into her rucksack, Cruz took out a length of rope, draping it across her body. Leaving her pack behind, she slung her rifle and climbed the building's façade using the awning above the front door and window sills. "Whatever happened to chivalry?"

Hicks, crouching, kept his rifle trained on the street. "You lost your right to that when you enlisted."

A few minutes later, Cruz pulled herself level with the un-shuttered window. The glass was filthy but she was able to see a bedroom inside. The door was closed, the interior appearing undisturbed. Climbing until her boots were on the sill, she used her knife to defeat the window's shoddy lock. Opening it, she ducked inside.

Hicks waited only a few more minutes before Cruz' rope dropped down beside him. He slung his rifle, tying the end of the rope to Cruz' rucksack before climbing up with Cruz covering him from the window. Once he cleared the first ten feet, she ducked back inside. A minute later, he pulled himself inside the window; Cruz deeper in the room, covering the door.

"Any contact?" Hicks whispered as he retrieving and stowing her rope.

She shook her head, her eyes never wavering from the door. "Not a sound." Holding out an arm, she shrugged into her rucksack as Hicks moved past her. Once her pack was secure, she rose from her kneeling position and advanced on the door; Hicks standing to one side the knob in his hand.

Switching on the flashlight mounted beneath the barrel of her rifle, she nodded. Hicks yanked the door open onto a narrow hallway and the remainder of the apartment. With Cruz in the lead, they cleared the home, finding nothing but empty rooms. At the front door, Hicks took point, moving them into a corridor lined with doors, some open, some not. Hicks paused, indicating that they should head for the roof. They slipped down the hall, traversing the open apartment doors one at a time, always with their suppressed weapons pointing inside the gaping voids.

There was no power in the building. Even the emergency exit lights were out. The oppressive weight of the stone walls seemed to press in on them. Though they needed every bit of their senses, it seemed that all five were muted in the inky blackness. Muffled sounds, real and perceived, came from everywhere. The air was thick with the smell and taste of heat and rot. Even the darkness seemed to push in on their lights threatening blindness at any moment.

Reaching the end of the hall unmolested, they entered a stair tower traveling the height of the building. Hicks continued to lead, Cruz covering their rear; him staring toward the uncertainty of the floors above, she looking into an abyss which offered the real possibility of a fate worse than death.

Z

An infected man dressed in a hijab reduced to strips of cloth, half his face charred away, wandered aimlessly along an avenue clogged with wrecked vehicles and debris. Mindless and lethal, the shell of a human being stumbled over a heavy block of reinforced concrete, nearly falling. Standing upright he pitched backward as a .308 round pierced his forehead, obliterating his brain. He crumpled to the street, never noticing the six other dead lumps of flesh lying nearby. Four hundred yards away, tucked beneath a teepee of shattered rock, a sniper cracked a grin.

"This is almost too easy," Kelly said working another round into the chamber. He looked over his shoulder at Nathan covering their rear. "When I finished Sniper School, I imagined roaming the dunes of Iraq or the mountains of Afghanistan hunting enemy shooters. I wanted a necklace made of HOG's teeth."

"It's good to have goals," replied Nathan, dismissive, "how much farther?"

Kelly tucked his M24 into the soft case tied to his ruck and checked his M4, strapping it to his body. "We've got another half-mile."

"What do you think that spook's got that's important enough to dump us back into this deathtrap?" Nathan asked taking point.

Kelly shook his head, hefting his rifle and moving to follow. "I don't know but it'd better be the fucking cure."

Z

Hicks and Cruz stepped onto the roof. There they found three corpses with head wounds. One of them had a throwing knife jutting from its eye. Cruz moved to each of the bodies and inspected them while Hicks continued to search. He found a satellite dish mounted to a chimney, exposed wires connecting it to a cellular phone.

Back at the dead, Cruz found bites on all three corpses. She was removing the throwing knife from the last one when a hand appeared on her shoulder. Before it could grab, she spun away swinging her weapon around. The butt of her rifle connected with a man's chin, knocking him to the ground. She took a step back bringing her weapon to her cheek, ready to end the fight.

"Don't shoot!"

She paused, her fury waning.

"Christ, woman that hurt." The man was white and dressed in khaki cargo pants, military boots, and a black button-down shirt. He wore a lightweight OD green tactical vest covered with empty pouches and a black and green scarf over a head covered in short dark hair and a beard. A gloved hand was at his mouth, catching his blood. "How does someone so small hit so hard?"

"How's about you identify yourself?" Hicks said aiming his pistol at the newcomer's face.

The man held up his hands nodding, "All right, all right. Take it easy. My name is Richards, codenamed 'Paladin'. I'm guessing you're my extraction?"

"Part of it," Hicks said, lowering his weapon. "We need to move. We didn't have that much fun the last time we were here."

"Sounds good to me," Richards said. He flashed Cruz a leering grin taking the throwing knife from her hand. "I'll need that back, sweetness."

Hicks keyed up his throat mike. "Kelly, Hicks, we have the package and are Oscar-Mike to you, copy?"

_"Hicks, Nathan, we copy."_

Z

_…I stepped_ _into a draw created by a series of blast craters and the partial collapse of the street on_ _high-alert. The infected and all signs of them had disappeared. My senses were strained to the limit;_ _the lack of danger more disconcerting than an overwhelming enemy force._ _For weeks I had become accustomed to gunfire and the incessant moaning of the infected. The noise had, on more than one occasion threatened my very sanity. Now I missed it…_

Sliding down a ramp of concrete formed by the destruction of a three-story building, Nathan passed through a tunnel of rubble, landing in a crouch at the bottom. Bringing his weapon up, he scanned his surroundings. During their move toward the extraction point they'd had to engage infected on every street and even some trapped inside cars, reaching out like semi-sentient land mines. A few times he and Kelly had gone to cover to avoid being spotted by non-infected people scurrying from hiding place to hiding place. The last ten blocks had been devoid of anything infected or otherwise.

Kelly moved into position at Nathan's back, searching the buildings above them. "Is this freaky or what?"

Nathan nodded. "I don't like this."

"Switch with me," Kelly said. He moved to the front, crawling to the lip of the war-made depression and looked through a set of binoculars for a few moments before sliding back down. "I can see the school but I don't have a visual on the yard. There's a tall-enough building ahead that looks like it's got a ladder up the side. We'll go there to get eyes on the LZ."

The two soldiers climbed out of the draw and hustled among the shadows of the waning day until coming to the side of a four-story building. The ladder had been partially destroyed, the lowest intact rung high enough from the ground to foil any infected person. Nathan stood with his back against the wall squatting slightly and making a stirrup with his hands. Kelly slung his rifle, got a running start, leaped with Nathan's help and grabbed onto the lowest rung. Hooking his arm through, he hung for Nathan who used him to climb into the lead.

Once at the top, Nathan peered onto the roof. Finding it deserted, he finished his climb but crawled across on his belly remaining invisible from the street. Kelly arrived behind him and followed suit, moving across the baking gravelly surface to the other side where they could get a view of their chosen escape route.

_…We stayed as hidden as we could, although the buildings around us were at least three stories taller. The last time we were there, as well as the infected, we'd had to contend with mercenaries. They were the worst. What little I told you about them before was compounded by the shit I found out when we got back to base._ _They were becoming more and more_ _of__a problem. They promised escape and safety to people trying to survive. Usually they targeted women, girls, and families. The women and girls were…used as they saw fit. In the case of families, the men, and any boy old enough to fight, were robbed and killed unless they cooperated. The women and girls were taken and used as they saw fit. It was a terrible fate but only slightly better than what they were running from. Initially we had standing orders to avoid them. That changed when they started attacking us for supplies…_

"You see anything?" Kelly asked, scanning the yard through the scope of his sniper rifle.

"Not a thing," Nathan said lowering the binoculars. "I think we're clear."

Kelly kept searching. "Area's open but we still got a few places to take cover if we need to. Infected traffic is still non-existent for whatever reason."

Nathan raised his binoculars again and looked around. "Yeah, that's weirding me out." He looked to Kelly. "What's the call?"

Kelly keyed up his throat mike, "Alpha 1-34 calling Flight Time, Spinner do you copy?"

_"Roger 1-34; go ahead over."_

"It's in the bag, Spinner, looking for immediate EVAC."

_"Copy 1-34, Flight Time is inbound to your position. Mark LZ and we'll see you in five."_

"Copy Flight Time, LZ will be marked." Kelly slipped back from the edge of the roof and tucked his rifle back in its case.

Nathan stayed in place, keying up his mike. "Hicks, Nathan, ride's on the way."

_"Copy Nate, we've got eyes on the school."_

_"Nate, Cruz, any signs of infected?"_

Nathan kept his eyes downrange. "Negative. It's messing with us too." Turning to his right, he spotted the others emerging from behind a pile of rubble. Cruz was on point. Their asset was next with Hicks who was covering the rear. "I've got eyes on you. Still looks clear." He watched Cruz light a flare and hurl it into the middle of the yard. Green smoke billowed into the twilight sky.

_"Nate, Hicks move it up."_

"That's our cue," Kelly said. He and Nathan ran in a crouch back to the ladder, the sound of the incoming Blackhawk growing louder.

Using the ladder, they descended one at a time; the other providing cover. Once down, they headed to where they could see the yard, the burning flare, and the rest of their squad. Kelly and Nathan tread cautiously, the noise of the helicopter almost deafening. If there were any infected in the area, the dinner bell was ringing.

_"Alpha 1-34 we've got visual on the marker. Overhead in less than thirty seconds."_

_"Copy, Flight Time."_

In the lead, Kelly gave Nathan a rap on the shoulder, pointing as the Blackhawk flew into view. "There she is."

Nathan nodded. "Thank God. We can drop James Bond off and its quality chow and a hot shower."

Kelly turned, plotting a route into the yard as the bird settled into a low hover. Hicks and the others were moving. "Here we go."

The whistle of the rocket was shockingly loud. There was no time to react. The pilot of the helicopter tried lifting away but it was too little too late. The RPG slammed into the rear rotor tearing through the tail, exploding just behind the main fuselage. The helicopter was blasted in half and hurled beyond the confines of the yard into the surrounding buildings like a meteor.

The gunfire started next. Automatic rifles clattered; hot lead kicking up chips of rock and concrete around Hicks and the others. The trio ran for cover, firing in all directions. Nathan and Kelly rushed toward the yard at an angle, giving them a wider view of the battlefield.

"You got eyes on enemy?" Nathan yelled.

Kelly's rifle panned back and forth. "Not yet, wait. Contact twelve and change, one and two." He grabbed at his throat. "Hicks, Kelly! We're cut off! They're at your three to five! We'll lay down suppressing fire while you make a run for the school!"

_"Copy that. On your go!"_

Nathan sighted down his weapon at the muzzle flash belonging to a silhouette two hundred meters away. He flipped his selector switch from "SEMI" to "BURST" and squeezed the trigger. His rifle kicked and the target was felled. Another moved to take its place. His next shot was not as well-placed but did the job. Kelly added his weapon to the fight and the opposition's fire slackened.

Kelly grabbed his throat. "Go! Go! Go!"

_"Moving!"_

Hicks took off for the school, ignoring the rounds zipping past him. Behind him Richards was firing with an AK-47, acquired along the way. Cruz covered their rear, her rifle sending a cloud of lead at their attackers. On reaching the doors of the school, Hicks pulled and, surprisingly, they opened. Even more surprising was the lack of infected on the other side. The Team Leader ducked into the closest room and saw that, it too, was clear. He moved back to the main doors and lent his weapon to Cruz' effort, allowing her and Richards to move past him to safety.

At their position, Kelly and Nate kept firing but the enemy fire started flying their way. They would need to move and soon.

_"Hicks, we're in!"_

"Copy!" yelled Kelly. He gave Nathan's shoulder a tap. "Let's go!"

_…We retreated. It wasn't the first time. We'd backed down from more than our share of conflicts but always as a squad. Leaving Hicks and the others pinned in that school, enemies at their back and the unknown at their front. It felt like treason._

_Kelly had a plan though. I followed him back to the rooftop. From there we got a visual at what was coming at us. Looking at their position, we were able to get a measure of their forces. What we saw wasn't good. We were outnumbered and outgunned. The enemy was coordinated and practiced; choosing not to rush in but rather take stock and wait. Up there we could see everything but could do nothing about it…_

"Hicks, Kelly, status?"

Below, Hicks' rifle was trained on the door. Behind him Cruz covered the vast mystery that was the school while Richards reloaded his weapon. Shifting into a seated firing position, Hicks keyed up his mike. "Kelly, Hicks. We're okay. What the hell was that?"

_"There's an enemy force about two hundred meters southwest of your position. They are holding currently. My guess, waiting to see how many infected come around to the crash."_

Hicks lowered his weapon relaxing slightly. "What's that looking like?"

_"Only a few so far but once the sun goes down with the light from the fire we'll get more, orders?"_

"Hold in place for now. I'll come back with our next move." Hicks turned away from the door. "Cruz, rig the door while I secure the room."

Cruz moved from her position digging into her butt pack. From it she removed a fragmentation grenade and a spool of thread. While she was built her trap, Hicks secured the only other door in the room. Richards looked back and forth between the two soldiers as they worked.

"You ordered them to hold?" he asked. "You know whoever that is will be regrouping, right?"

Hicks, walking across the room, checked his weapon making sure he had a full magazine primed and ready to fire. He checked his sidearm as well. He looked up as Cruz finished her work. She gave him a silent thumb's-up. Hicks nodded, holstering his pistol and slinging his rifle.

Cruz stood next to Richards checking her own weapons. "Kelly and Nate will be moving in on the enemy position for recon and to even the odds if they can."

"It's a standing order since we can't be sure they aren't listening in," Hicks said. "What we can do," he snatched his knife from its sheath on his leg and kicked Richards onto his back as Cruz relieved the spy of his weapons, "is ask you who the hell they are."

Ignoring the knife at his throat, Richards' voice was flat and even. "You need to stand down, soldier. You are under orders to bring me in."

"Fuck my orders," Hicks said. "I knew the men in that chopper. They're dead, we're pinned down and two of mine are cut off. Those weren't some hijab-wearing radicals out there spraying lead and getting lucky with an RPG. That was a precise attack from trained soldiers who know well-enough not to come swooping in after us."

"Mercenaries have operated in this area for decades," Richards said.

Hicks turned his knife point down and pressed it under Richards' chin. "Yeah, we've met them. That chopper was more valuable to them intact. Now I'm gonna ask you one more time. Who are they?"

Feeling the point pierce his skin, Richards jerked, "All right!" He sighed. "I suspect they are a unit of Chinese Special Ops culled together from one or two of their Alpha Teams."

"The Chinese," asked Cruz, "why?"

"Because of what I know," Richards looked back and forth between the two soldiers. "It's a long story."

"We've got until we hear from Kelly and Nate or that door explodes," Hicks said. "Start talking."

**Z**

In the darkness, Nate and Kelly moved among the mountains of rubble in total silence. To their left, the dying glow of the burning helicopter wreckage cast eerie shadows on their surroundings. The mournful wails of the infected could be heard as more and more arrived, drawn by the noise and light of the fire.

The pair of soldiers was circling around to flank their opposition, Kelly leading the way, sometimes moving in a crouch, sometimes sprinting, sometimes slithering along on their stomachs to find the perfect vantage point. It was almost an hour before they climbed into an exposed second-floor apartment of a building missing its façade. Kelly moved to cover behind a jagged section of ruined drywall and an overturned table. Hearing voices below, the sniper held a finger to his lips and pointed.

On the first floor of their building, surrounded by a hastily put-together barricade of rubble and wrecked cars, was a group of ten men. They were dressed in dark fatigues and heavily armed, obviously waiting for the number of infected to dwindle.

"That's not Arabic," Nathan whispered, commenting on the opposition's language.

"Doesn't matter," Kelly replied. He pointed at an exposed apartment across from and above their position. "I need you to get there. We'll do 'shock and awe'."

_…He got into his position as I left. Moving through a ruined door into a hall so black it seemed to swallow the world, I felt a crushing sense of loneliness. Stalking past the clutter left behind by panic-stricken people I would never meet, I got more and more depressed. Every piece of trash and charred knickknack represented a life that was either snuffed out or horribly altered…_

Nathan emerged from the darkness and into the relative light. Making ready to pass through a ruined doorway into position, he found a length of monofilament stretched taught at shin level with keys and other bits of metal on the line. The rudimentary trip wire was an early-warning system should any infected approach. There was the slight scuff of a boot on cracked linoleum and a member of the opposition appeared carrying a chair. Setting it up in the middle of the floor, the shrouded soldier sat facing away from him.

Nathan waited a few moments before emerging from the darkness, his rifle across his back, knife in hand. Stepping over the wire, he crouched slowly and carefully, approaching the unaware soldier. Closing in, he struck, muffling the soldier's surprised scream and ending any chance of a scuffle by shoving his blade up through the back of the soldier's neck.

He paused for a moment, holding the dead man in his arms; waiting for any sign of reprisal. When there was none, he gave the corpse a quick inspection. He found that their foe was Asian, not Arab and outfitted with the latest weaponry not Soviet surplus and cheap knockoffs. Moving to a better vantage point, Nathan looked down on the remainder of the enemy force. They were moving around, completely oblivious, a few staring at the burning airship and the wandering souls around it. Two were off to one side, one gesturing toward the school. They were planning an offensive.

**Z**

Richard sighed. "Have either of you heard of the Warbrunn-Knight Report?" He looked back and forth between them.

"I remember Nate mentioning it." Cruz said. "He said he heard about it when we were passing through Tikrit. It was supposed to be Israel's plan to fight the infection."

Richards nodded. "It's not quite that but it's the primary reason your team exists. It was presented to the UN along with the White House and, for the most part, it was ignored by both."

"You just said that it was the reason the Alpha Teams were created," Hicks said.

"That report was hundreds of pages," Richards said. "The part suggesting the use of Special Forces trained to engage the infected was one paragraph somewhere in the middle. The report was well-detailed and very thorough but, according to our powers-that-be, more intelligence was needed before we committed fully to the structure and guidelines the report suggested."

"When was this?"

Richard sniffed. "I've been Oscar-Mike for over two years." He lifted his chin off the point of Hicks' knife, sitting up when Hicks backed off. "Our orders came down from the White House Chief of Staff, a piece of shit wannabe-insider named Grover Carlson. He tasked my team with verifying the Warbrunn-Knight Report in its entirety. CIA Command told him it was unnecessary, that reports from our field agents, assets and forward positions were providing verification on their own. Hell, the shit we were getting out of Kyrgyzstan should have been enough but some chest puffing and dick-measuring later; five of us wound up on a plane bound for nowhere."

Hicks sheathed his knife. "Keep going."

Richards rubbed a hand over his face. "We followed the paper trail, moved all over the world. Spoke with everyone we could; scientists, military strategists, other covert operatives, conspiracy theorists, crackpots. The stories were different but they all had the same hellish ending. By the time we got to Siberia, the world was waking up to the nightmare we had been living for eighteen months. There was no need to verify anything. The virus was the feature story on every news outlet. "

"Is that when your mission ended?"

Richard shook his head. "Priorities were changed. We got orders to trace the disease back to its origin; tracked it all the way to this shit-hole village in China. New Dachang, that's where Patient Zero came from; twelve-year-old boy. Found out he was taken intact by the Chinese Government. From there we followed the trail to Beijing and then Hong Kong. After that, it all went to shit. China started to implode with Russia and the Middle East going right along with it. Three of us barely made it out of Hong Kong. Two of us survived India. My partner bought it in South Africa."

Cruz frowned. "I don't get it. If the world knew what was going on, why send you to China? Were they looking for a cure?"

"I wasn't sent to China," Richards clarified. "That's where the trail led. And we weren't looking for a cure. Carlson knew the White House was going to have a lot to answer for and the little shit was looking for someone to blame. By that time the first indisputable cases were popping up at home and Phalanx's inability to protect people was becoming common knowledge. He needed somebody to pass the buck to."

"So the Chinese are after you to what, save face?" Cruz asked.

Richards made a wry face. "Would you want to be known as the nation that caused the end of the world? Not that it matters anymore."

Hicks crouched in front of the spy. "What do you mean?"

"Nobody gives a shit where this disease came from. Everybody's too busy trying to survive." Richards pointed towards doors. "That is happening right now all over the world. You and your buddies maybe bought us another month or so but time's up. The Warbrunn-Knight Report was supposed to be executed in the beginning of this crisis, not at the end. It's too late for any of it now."

He started rocking back and forth. "You wanna know how many of our other Alpha units are like you, operating OCONUS? Five, maybe six; five or six teams out of forty _detachments_! Everybody else was pulled home to back up regular military operations that are happening as we speak. The rest of the world might have two or three teams operating outside their respective borders but I doubt it."

"Things can't be this bad back home," Cruz started.

Richard turned to her, "Why, because they would've told you? Are you really that naïve?"

"What makes you so important?" asked Hicks, his voice quiet. "If it's all gone to shit, your mission doesn't matter anymore, so why risk the four of us to bring you in?"

Richards looked at the floor. "On the way back, me and my partner shacked up with a bunch of Indian refugees making their way to Madagascar. When we got there we made contact with one of our safe houses in Cape Town. It was run by this douche-bag Van Wilder-type asshole looking to make his bones. Anyway he had a few of his people bring us in. At the time, South Africa was going through what America is now."

He leaned forward. "We came in, debriefed and were looking to make our way to the States when he laid it on us."

"What?"

"Running his own unsanctioned op, he had intercepted communications among members of the ruling administration." Richards laughed. "Well, 'communications' is not the right word; screaming argument is more apt. They were talking about bringing in some guy named Paul Redeker. They kept mentioning something called 'Orange Eighty-Four' and how he was the best strategist in the world."

"You contacted him?" Hicks asked. When Richard nodded he added, "Why?"

"Is that the sweet sound of racism I hear in your Smoky Mountain drawl?" Richards asked.

"No. Every country has the world's greatest everything," Hicks said. "What makes this Redeker so special?"

Richards nodded thoughtfully. "I'll put it this way. For the current administration to go to this guy for anything would be like the Jews taking their kids to Josef Mengele for a check-up. When I say that he was hated it's because I don't know a word more negative than that."

"They could have just been desperate," Cruz offered.

"They were and in their desperation Paul Redeker was who they decided to turn to. Understand, the U.S. was headed in the same direction. If this guy had any ideas worth knowing, we wanted to know it too." Richards rubbed his face. "We found him at this cabin in the middle of nowhere. He wasn't what we expected; this plain man who was polite but indifferent. He outlined his plan over tea."

"And?" asked Cruz.

"Part of me wanted to kill him right then and there," Richards said. "One for thinking up something so…I don't have the words; and two because I knew, even then, that the world will adopt it. It was for the same reasons that I didn't kill him. After, my partner and I bugged out and started to make our way up here. The Chinese caught up with us and took him out as we were crossing the border into Namibia. That was almost two months ago."

"Two months?" Hicks asked.

"It took a bit to get through the Congo in one piece." Richards shifted his legs. "Anyway, I managed to make contact with Command and tell them what I had learned both from my mission and from Redeker. Bastards had already written me off but, in no time, I went from 'presumed KIA' to 'priority one asset'."

"I still don't get why the Chinese would want you dead now," Hicks said. "If everyone else is backing off and fending for themselves, why keep coming after you?"

Richards shrugged. "Pride, honor, I don't know. They wouldn't be the first group to cling to stupid ideals or be deceived by propaganda. You passed through Iraq, right? I first ended up there because 'they hate us for our freedom'. There's no telling what that crew was told I did."

"Now they're between us and a ride outta here," Cruz said.

"Let's wait to hear from Nate and Kelly," Hicks said.


	3. Chapter 3

**Z**

The Chinese had ended their powwow and were gearing up. In a few moments, Hicks Cruz and the spy were going to be under siege. It was now or never. Nathan drew a fragmentation grenade from a pouch on his LBV. Using a small light, he signaled to Kelly with five quick flashes. Counting down from three, he pulled the pin on the grenade, cooked it for two seconds and tossed it into the air.

A flash-bang, thrown first by Kelly went off in the middle of the enemy position, the sudden blast of light and sound bringing brilliant concussive confusion. An instant later, Nathan's grenade went off directly above them peppering the shocked troops in punishing ballistic shrapnel. Men screamed in disoriented panic, foolishly firing without suppressors, adding more light and sound to the mix; most of the fire aimed at the school.

Nathan and Kelly made them pay for their misconception. From their hidden positions they let fly a barrage of hot lead, raining death with ruthless precision. Months and months of persistent head-hunting had made the practice a reflex. Skulls split and brains disintegrated. Ten, made six from the explosions, became three and then one. Bleeding from shrapnel and gunfire, the rest of his team dead, and the infected lurching toward him; brought by the noise, the remaining man chose to end his own life. The fight had lasted less than a minute. The pair of victors tucked themselves back into hiding.

"Threat neutralized," Kelly said over the com.

_…'Threat neutralized'. I'd heard it dozens of times but it never sounded so final until that moment. We had encountered traditional resistance before, putting down our share of misguided insurgents and crazed survivors. Every time it was 'threat neutralized'. This was somehow different. We did not know who they were or why they had chosen to attack us; however, there was almost a kinship between us. Like us, they were soldiers following orders. Like us they were far from home and facing the same threats as we. What made us so different from them?_

_I remember trying to rationalize it in my mind, the sound of the infected feeding on their bodies making its way to my position. They were the enemy. They had killed four of ours and stood in the way of the completion of our mission. They deserved what they got. I still felt guilty._

_We stayed there the night. By the time the sun was rising, the fire from the chopper was out. There was almost nothing left of the enemy fire team and the infected had moved on, chasing the sound of gunfire somewhere in the distance. Hicks rallied us just as a beat-up UH-60 dropped in to pick us up. That was when we got our first real size-up of our reason for being there. Climbing aboard that chopper, the guy had the look, you know? Eyes sunken in, face slack; we could tell what he was carrying was a heavy weight to bear._

_Hicks and Cruz had some of it too. Kelly inquired. Hicks brushed him off. Whatever it was would have to wait. On the ride to the embassy, everyone was quiet. The spy kept staring at a digital recorder in his hands. It looked like he was debating whether or not to chuck it out the open door. If I had known it then, I might have done it myself…_

The chopper swept over the south wall of the US embassy in Rabat and swung its tail around to land in a modest courtyard. A squad of Marines moving in to attend to the bird, Nathan and the others moved towards the main building. The spy lagged behind. Hicks slowed with him.

"I used to get a thrill out of completing my missions," Richards said. "I guess there's no honor in destroying the human race."

Hicks sighed, "You have to look at it from the larger aspect."

Richards nodded. "Oh I am. I understand that what's on this recorder represents the only hope we have." He scowled at the plastic and metal device. "But once this is unleashed it's all over. This plan, this…thing, this…true weapon of mass destruction will save our species," he paused, "but we will never be able to call ourselves 'human' again." He looked up as a group of men in black BDUs emerged from the building flanking a woman in a dark suit. "There's my ride. Good luck Sergeant."

Hicks stepped back as Richards was collected. He watched as the recorder was claimed by the woman in the suit and tucked into a pocket. The entire group was gone a moment later. Hicks slung his rifle and headed after his team, finding them inside the embassy's armory with several Marines huddled around a television.

"What are we watching?" Hicks asked.

"Army's taking the fight to the zombies," one of the Marines replied. "They've got tanks, MLRs, Apaches, you name it."

"It ain't doing shit though," someone said in awe.

"Why are they in foxholes?" Cruz asked.

"Are they in MOPP gear?" Kelly chimed in.

"Where is this?" Nathan asked.

"Yonkers," someone answered.

"Jesus, I live just three blocks from there," someone else said. "Anybody got a phone? I should call home. I need to call home."

"Stand easy, they evacuated everyone before the zombies showed up."

Nathan looked up from the screen, "Zombies?"

The Marine shrugged. "What do ya'll call 'em?"

"C'mon guys hold the line."

"They're getting close."

"How many are they up against?" from Kelly.

"Fox News did a fly-over, the G's stretch back to Times Square."

"Hold the line. Hold the line!"

_…They didn't hold the line. We watched as the greatest fighting force the world has ever known bowed and broke under the relentless assault of the infected horde, the zombie horde. The room was silent. Just a sea of faces greased with cammo, smeared with grime and staring in horror. With a bird's-eye view we watched our brethren literally get eaten alive. The feed went black for a few moments before flashing through several views from cameras on the ground. Everything was chaos. Smoke, fire, soldiers panicking. Muzzle flashes and zombies, zombies shuffling, zombies attacking; zombies eating._

_The feed jumped to another aerial view of the battlefield. Even removed by height we could still feel the bedlam below. There were no more lines. The zombies were among our forces. The image shifted violently as the helicopter moved away and gained altitude. I caught the streak of the fast-mover as it buzzed past. The cameraman swung his instrument around just in time to see it._

_Hicks pulled us away, moved us into another room. I turned from the screen as it went white with static before coming into focus on a massive fireball. A clean sweep had been executed on American soil, a fucking clean sweep. God help us all…_

**The**

**End**


End file.
